


Ataashi

by Ziba



Series: Haikyuu Age [4]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dragon Age, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Dragons, Flirting, Fukuroudani, I literally wrote this just for the pun, Light Angst/Comfort, M/M, No Dragon Age knowledge required, No dragon was hurt in the making of this fic, Pre-Relationship, Sass, Taking care of wound
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-09-01 04:47:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8608567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ziba/pseuds/Ziba
Summary: “My name is Akaashi Keiji, it is a pleasure to meet you, ser Bokuto,” he introduced himself.“Ser Bokuto, aye? I like the sound of that, makes me feel like I’m a knight. Do you think I’m a knight?” He looked at Akaashi, expecting him to answer.“I have yet to see you fight, ser Bokuto, and I do not think you were ordered a knight, either.” Akaashi freed his hands, and wiped it clean from the sweat of the handshake. “I am just being polite.”That seemed to make the Qunari deflate a little, and his smile turned into a pout. “I’ll make you say that I’m a knight, you know.”Akaashi just nodded. “As you say, ser Bokuto," a little sarcastic smile pulling at his lips. "I look forward to seeing that.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> ...Hello  
>  It's been a while since I updated the Haikyuu Age AU, but I swear I'm working on it!  
> This has been sitting in my drafts for too long, honestly, and I'd like to thank Tsucchi, RaijuBlue, and HaikyuuGarbageCan for helping me with this!!! Thank you so much guys <3  
> This work doesn't need knowledge of Dragon Age to understand it, but if you need a pic of what a Qunari looks like here 's the wikia page (Beware of spoilers for the game though!)  
> Hope you'll enjoy ^3^  
> Side note: "Ser" is like "sir", usually used for knights

Akaashi looked up at the beaming Qunari who had presented himself as the mercenary band’s captain. He had spiked up hair, matched by an impressive pair of horns styled in a similar fashion.

“You must be the new meat!” he shouted in Akaashi’s face, grinning from pointed ear to pointed ear. Akaashi sighed, and questioned whether he still had time to accept the offering he had received from another mercenary company named Nekoma. The Qunari was looking down at him, blinking, as if expecting something. Akaashi just stared back, waiting for the man to make the first move. He didn’t have to wait much, because the Qunari clapped him on the back, hard, almost sending him flying. “I’m Bokuto Koutarou, if you didn’t catch that!” he said in the same high tone. “Don’t be shy, share your name!”

Akaashi sighed, again, longer this time, then held out a hand. “My name is Akaashi Keiji, it is a pleasure to meet you, ser Bokuto,” he introduced himself. The Qunari, if possible, grinned even more, and shook energetically Akaashi’s hand. 

“Ser Bokuto, aye? I like the sound of that, makes me feel like I’m a knight. Do you think I’m a knight?” He looked at Akaashi, expecting him to answer.

“I have yet to see you fight, ser Bokuto, and I do not think you were ordered a knight, either.” Akaashi freed his hands, and wiped it clean from the sweat of the handshake. “I am just being polite.”

That seemed to make the Qunari deflate a little, and his smile turned into a pout. “I’ll make you say that I’m a knight, you know.”

Akaashi just nodded. “As you say, ser Bokuto," then, like an afterthought, he added, "I look forward to seeing that,” with a little sarcastic smile. Bokuto obviously didn’t read the sarcasm in his tone, and clapped him again in his back.

“Just you wait, I’ll show you, Ataashi!” he screeched, putting his arm around Akaashi’s neck. 

Akaashi tried to break free from the grip, and tried to protest that his name was “Akaashi, not Ataashi”, but Bokuto didn’t hear him, wrestling him around to show him their camp.

* * *

Akaashi let go of the arrow in his bow, piercing through the skull of one of the poor sods that had thought it was a good idea to attack the Fukurodani Mercenary Company. Akaashi couldn’t wrap his head around it. They had quite the reputation, one that had grown in the six months Akaashi had been a part of it, and yet people still thought they could try to ambush them and steal their gear and equipment. 

He sighed, turning with another arrow at the ready, and shot towards one of the men attacking Bokuto. The Qunari lifted his greatsword, and pierced the other one effortlessly. Then he turned toward Akaashi, grinning and waving. “Did you see that, Ataashi? Did you?”

“Very impressive, ser Bokuto,” the archer said, sighing internally. After six months he had yet to convince his captain that “Ataashi” was  _not_  his name. He had tried to correct him again and again, yet there was still no change. “But do not get too fired up, there are more to come.” 

“Let ‘em come!” Bokuto roared, greatsword swinging already against the new wave of enemies. Akaashi smiled despite himself, amused at the sight. He had never in his life seen someone so prone to battle. 

He reached with his hand to the quiver, taking out another arrow, smile still in place.

* * *

Akaashi was supervising Komi bandaging a quite dejected Bokuto.

“C’mon, Bokuto, it was just one fight,” Komi was saying, but Bokuto wasn’t hearing any of it; just pouting, refusing to move from his seat by the campfire or to speak to anyone, round eyes fixated on the ground, hoping to be swallowed by it.

Komi turned to Akaashi,  “please do something, vice-captain” written all over his face. Akaashi nodded, taking his place, and took the role of wrapping his captain in bandages. A month ago he had been nominated “vice-captain”- which had been quite funny, since he hadn’t actively tried to climb ranks, nor had he meant to be in this position in less than a year. But one day, he had woken up, and his companions were calling him “vice-captain”. Akaashi hadn’t inquired about it, simply accepting his fate.

“Komi is right; it was but one fight,” Akaashi said, his tone low and calm. His voice shook Bokuto, who turned toward Akaashi, wincing as the motion made his wound sting with pain.

“It wasn’t just a fight! I forgot how to use my sword! I can’t forget how to use my sword, or what good am I? You all might as well just leave me die in a pit.” With that, he turned again, back to his sulking.

Akaashi stayed silent. The last fight had actually been  _his_  mistake. He had seen that Bokuto had grown more and more frustrated, with the fight getting longer than expected, but instead of giving Bokuto an opportunity to let him unleash the frustration on the leader of their enemies, he had called him out, telling him to “stand aside”. That had led to Bokuto completely losing sight of what he was doing. Usually it was Bokuto who called himself out of fights, never the other way around, and he had found himself not knowing what to do with himself.

Akaashi had completely misread Bokuto’s timing, assuming he was done when he was just fired up. It was a mistake he never made since their collaboration had begun, and had been due to Akaashi’s own tiredness and frustration with a battle that should have been easy and by the book, and instead had proved to be quite the challenge.

He couldn’t actually tell that to Bokuto since he’d either brush it off as Akaashi trying to take the blame from Bokuto’s shoulders, or take offense for Akaashi giving him orders even though it was Bokuto who was the one in charge. 

Akaashi found himself in quite the situation.

“Leaving you to die in a pit would not benefit the company in the slightest, ser Bokuto,” he said carefully, hands tying a knot to the bandages. “Rather, we need you at your best for the fights of tomorrow.” A simple sentence, just to taste the waters.

“Tomorrow I’ll just slow you down again, won’t I,” Bokuto mumbled, head down. “You had to tell me to get the hell away, since I was doing no good to anyone.”

Akaashi felt a stab of guilt. “That is not what I meant, and you kno-”

“I know that I’m a handful, and I know that more often than not I’m dragging you all down,” he insisted. Akaashi looked at the dark sky above them, hoping for a sign on how to handle this. It was the first time Bokuto’s mood had dropped because of Akaashi, so he was at bit of a loss.

He found nothing.

“Weren’t you boasting just yesterday about being the greatest warrior alive?” Akaashi asked, hoping that that line of thinking would have done something to the Qunari’s mood.

It didn’t.

“Well, I was obviously wrong.”

Akaashi breathed in deeply, breathing in the cold of the night. He scooted closer. He sunk a hand into Bokuto’s hair, which was currently down rather than spiked up as usual, and started to massage his scalp. “I sometimes forget how to shoot.”

Bokuto stilled at his touch, and looked at him warily. “You're lying just to make me feel better.”

Akaashi chuckled. Bokuto wasn’t as stupid as most people made him out to be, and could understand well enough what was going on around him. However, that time he was wrong, for Akaashi wasn’t lying. “I wish I was. But I do. In the heat of the battle, it’s not that uncommon to forget what you are supposed to be doing, especially—” Akaashi sucked a breath, shifting his gaze on the fire before him, “especially when someone intervenes.”

“You did well to tell me to stop.” Bokuto raised his legs to the bench so that he was hugging them, and Akaashi had to wonder how he managed to do that seeing his size. “I was getting in the way.” The Qunari groaned, and hid his face into his arms.

Akaashi kept moving his hand in his hair. Bokuto was really physical; he enjoyed that kind of comfort and since words were failing him, Akaashi didn’t stop the tracing of his fingers. Akaashi felt him relax under his touch, but didn’t see a change in his mood.

“I think you are a valuable asset for our company, ser Bokuto,” Akaashi said. He knew that Bokuto was really sensitive to compliments, and he knew that Bokuto more than anyone else searched for Akaashi’s approval. Akaashi was usually careful with his complimenting, since more often than not it felt like pouring lantern oil on fire, but when he did he only said what he really thought. “Do not sell yourself too short because of one bad day.”

Bokuto turned toward him, eyes wide, and while he wasn’t back to his usual boisterous self, his expression was more of raw surprise than of dark brooding. Akaashi saw that as a small victory, and raised to his feet. 

“You better have some sleep. It is getting late and we have to raise early tomorrow. Schedule is tight.” He lifted his hand from Bokuto's head, fingers tingling. He ignored the sensation and pointed at Bokuto’s tent, looking the Qunari straight in the eyes.

Bokuto rose as well, muttered a halfhearted “aye, aye, ‘night” and moved toward the tent, arms hanging at his side, but feet not dragging. Akaashi had learned to read Bokuto’s body language well enough, and right now it was telling him “While I’m not totally convinced of what you said, you  _might_  not be wrong”, which was good enough for Akaashi for the moment. 

He sat back on the bench, ready to start his watch shift, hand unconsciously clenching and loosening.

* * *

Akaashi wasn’t a nature man. He had grown up in a city, picked up archery because that was the only weapon he had managed to get his hands on. He hadn’t seen a forest until he was twenty-one, which was approximately two and half years ago. He was still getting used to the whole “trekking into mountains” thing, and he had to admit that his orientation skills weren’t the best.

Still, he had found himself leading their company through said mountains, and had already got lost four times. He had tried- subtly- to get someone else to lead the way, but it looked like his companions were as good as evading commanding positions as they were at fighting. 

Akaashi, therefore, had been on edge since the second time they had gotten lost, and the light teasing from the others hadn’t helped him recollect his cool. He deemed himself a calm and reflective person, but lately his nerves had been tested over and over. As if that hadn’t been bad enough, Bokuto had been quiet most of the day; he hadn't joined in the teasing, nor had proposed to take on Akaashi’s place, even when Akaashi had asked him bluntly to do so. It was especially frustrating considering that Bokuto, unlike Akaashi, had the orientation skills of a carrier hawk. He had received a light shrug and a pout as an answer, and while Akaashi  _got it_ _–_ he knew that Bokuto was still sulking on the fight of the day before, that he had still to recover his confidence – it was still  _irritating_. Even more so when they found themselves for the  _fifth_  time near the same caves, in the same clearing.

Akaashi let out a frustrated sigh. They had to reach the city in three days, and they had lost half a day of journey because of this. They’d lose that job if they didn’t go and talk with the one who was offering it on time.

“So, are we lost or are we  _lost lost,_ Akaashi?” asked Konoha, lazily approaching the archer. Akaashi just gave him a murderous look. He had no time for this.

He pulled his backpack off, throwing it on the ground, searching for a map. He heard a strange noise coming from the distance, like a rumble, and cursed mentally. All they needed was a storm headed their way. Akaashi took out a map, and the others gathered around it – all except for Bokuto, who was looking intently in the direction of the storm.

“All right we are here,” Akaashi pointed to the map, recognizing one of the rivers they had crossed a little earlier. “We need to--”

“Ataashi...” Bokuto voice came, somewhere between surprised and excited. Akaashi sighed.

“Not now, ser Bokuto,” he said, keeping his eyes on the map.

“No, Ataashi!” Bokuto screamed, pointing madly toward the sky. Akaashi let out another sigh, this time an annoyed one, and turned toward Bokuto.

“Ser Bokuto, I don’t have time to think about the storm,” he snapped, sight fixated on the approaching form of Bokuto. Before Akaashi could do anything, the Qunari had his head in his hands.

“Not Ataashi you...“Bokuto said slowly, to be sure that Akaashi was listening to him, and then he moved Akaashi's head toward the sky. “Ataashi,  _her_.”

Akaashi eyes went impossibly wide. “Oh shit.”

Approaching at an impossible speed, blood-red scales shining as it roared loudly enough to shake the skies, was a _high dragon_. 

Gasps of surprise were heard from behind them, the others also spotting the approaching beast. Panic escalated quickly among them.

“That’s it, that’s how we die.”

“Well, maybe it won’t come here? Like, maybe it will just fly on?”

“Why would it fly on when it has some nice snacks right here?!”

Akaashi gulped, then watched Bokuto, whose eyes were still fixed on the creature. The archer shook himself, thinking quickly about a solution. He turned his head toward the caves, and pointed at them. “Let’s hide in there, for the moment. Maybe it will not follow us.”

Bokuto made a sound that sounded far too much like a scolding noise. “She’s approaching _this_ very position,” he stressed the word pointing at the ground with his index fingers, and then pointed at the caves. “Those are probably her nest. Maybe she heard us come here often, and started getting worried about her babies.”

“Well then I propose we get the hell away from here before we discover if what you are saying is true, Bokuto,” Konoha said, already moving and motioning toward the opposite direction of the dragon. A chorus of “good idea” rose, but in that right moment a shriek shook the ground.

The dragon was already above them, screeching at them, pinpointing its prey. It flew directly above them, sending everybody screaming and flat on their stomachs. Akaashi found himself hiding behind one of the rocks near the entrance of the cave, hands pressed against his ears to protect them from the dragon’s growl.

Bokuto was right next to him, crouching as well, his expression was one of excited anticipation.

Akaashi didn’t realize he was smiling along until a moment later, when Bokuto made eye contact. “Alright, ser Bokuto,” he said to him, unsheathing his bow. “I suppose there is no running away from this one.”

“She’d chase us anyway,” Bokuto confirmed, his grin growing wider, hands to his own weapon. “Can I give the order?”

Akaashi nodded. “Yes, give the order, but you stay in the rear, ready to strike when I give you the opening.”

Bokuto’s grin widened a little. “Aye aye Ataashi.” The Qunari hopped out of their hiding spot, pointing his sword to the dragon. “Alright guys, get into position!”

* * *

The dragon was bleeding profusely from its chest, but didn’t seem to be affected by it. Akaashi stuck another arrow in the tender skin below its jaw, where the previous attack from Yamato had scratched away part of the scales. The beast moved its head just before the arrow could connect with said spot, and the dart flew right past the dragon in a perfect arc.

Akaashi clicked his tongue, annoyed. He quickly glanced over the battlefield. Everybody was attacking the dragon’s legs, Konoha going as far as attempting to chop its tail off, but the creature managed quite well to fend them all off nonetheless, alternating stomps on the humans to taking to the air briefly in order to retake control of the fight. Akaashi positioned another arrow, clicking his tongue again. All they needed was a fucking  _smart_  dragon. Bokuto was in the rear, swinging from time to time, but waiting for the opportunity to deal the finishing blow. Akaashi realized that he might have to join the fighting much earlier, if they kept stalling like that.

“Akaashi!” Komi shouted. The archer rose his head, seeing that the dragon was about to leap at him. He let out a choked shout, rolling away, trying not to break his bow during the movement. The dragon did not stop its chase. It had obviously found the reason of the many tiny stinging wounds on its body, and had decided that Akaashi’s arrows were far more troublesome than the other’s blades.

Once he rolled on his back, Akaashi found himself face to face with the creature. He reached for an arrow, but found the quiver empty. Shocked, he saw the arrows dispersed through the path he had used to escape, lost when he had recklessly rolled away. Cursing, he used his free hand to search for his hunting knife, his only close-combat weapon. As good as he was with it, it wasn't nearly enough to face the pain in the ass represented by the approaching overgrown lizard.

Akaashi swung both his bow and his knife towards the dragon while crawling away, hoping to gain a few precious inches. The dragon didn’t seem bothered by those weapons or the rest of the company attacking its rear. It drew back its head, lips barely parted, and Akaashi saw at the back of its throat the beginning of a fire.

 _I’m gonna die_.

The thought hit Akaashi as the high dragon opened its mouth further, ready to release the flames. He was going to die, and it would be a painful death. He fixed his eyes on the red inferno about to pour on him, the last thing he’d see in his life.

The inferno died as the creature roared in surprise and disdain, an unknown force knocking at its side. Akaashi didn’t question it, immediately getting up and picking up a harmful of arrows, knocking one into the bow. He quickly aimed and released the shot, which went straight in the neck of the creature.

“Hey mama! Look down here, would’ya?” Came Bokuto’s voice, who was shoving the dragon in its side,  _with his shoulders_. Akaashi froze at the sight. He had thought Bokuto capable of many things. That wasn’t one of them. “C’mon, come after me, mama! I wanna have fun too!”

“ _What in the Maker’s name are you doing?!”_ Akaashi heard himself shout, gaining the attention of both horned creatures. He dodged the claws of the dragon, and sent another arrow flying, aiming for its eyes and hitting its cheekbone. Konoha took over, swinging one of his two swords into one of the forepaws. Bokuto looked at Akaashi with an intense gaze. 

“Keeping her off your tail, obviously,” he shouted back. Bokuto moved right before the dragon’s face, roaring and waving his greatsword at it. The dragon seemed to take on the Qunari's taunt and growled back, its body preparing to leap on him, like a cat about to pounce on its prey.

Bokuto strode toward the dragon head on, showing off his own horns, sword drawing circles in the air. The high dragon kept screeching, but didn’t make any attempt to attack– instead it actually _backed off_ , moving toward to the cave.

Akaashi signaled the others to move on, and attack the dragon while Bokuto was keeping it distracted, but the Qunari signaled back, telling them to stand by. Akaashi blinked at the scene, mouth gaping.

Bokuto was actually _pushing_ the dragon back to the cave, with a mix of growls, whispered words, and the swing of his sword. The dragon  _complied_ , its roaring quieting to a sort of pitiful whining, its attacks less frequent and lacking aggressiveness – more to keep Bokuto from getting too close than to hurt him. Akaashi felt his breath catch in his throat, heart beating so hard it must had reached his own brain, the words “reckless” and “dangerous” taking over his mind.

“We don’t wanna hurt you or your babies, mama, it was you who swooped down on us,” Bokuto said, voice strangely soothing. The dragon didn’t seem to agree, for it leashed its head towards Bokuto, this time with the obvious intent of biting his head off. Akaashi never prepared an arrow so quickly in his entire life only to find, while aiming, that it was unnecessary as Bokuto was laughing, sword raised to parry. 

“He’s gonna get himself killed,” Konoha breathed, eyes on their captain. Akaashi couldn’t agree more.

Another swing from Bokuto, and the dragon’s body was halfway inside the bigger cave, continuing its whimpering. “You get in there, me and my friends get the hell out of here, and we can be friends like we were before! Sounds good to you, mama?”

The dragon let out one last pained noise, looked at Akaashi and the other members of the company, and retreated in the cave. Bokuto stood there for a moment, before running to his companions.

“Time to scram guys!” he screamed, surpassing his still stunned company. “She won’t stay calm forever, and I don’t think I can do that again!” he added from over his shoulder. The Fukurodani Company didn’t allow him to repeat himself, speeding after their captain.

They didn’t stop until they were sure that the creature hadn’t given them chase. They all collapsed at the same moment after reaching another clearing – this time blissfully dragonless. Akaashi doubled over, trying to catch his breath, blood still pumping in his temples – be it from the exertion of the run, the stress of the fight, or the dread at the sight of Bokuto facing alone the dragon.

 _Speaking of which_.

Akaashi straightened himself, marching toward the Qunari who was being cheered on by the rest of the company, and those compliments had never been as sincere as that day.

“Bokuto, that was awesome!”

“You freaking  _talked_ to it! Like – you ordered it around!  _And it obeyed you_!”

“Allow me to present you Bokuto, the dragon whisperer!”

Akaashi didn’t feel as cheerful. He reached for the collar of Bokuto’s armor, yanking him away from the others. “Prepare camp,” he ordered with clipped words. His companions immediately fell silent, giving nods of acknowledgment.

Akaashi dragged Bokuto away, deep into the forest, in spite of the fact that the Qunari was bigger and heavier than him, and in spite of Bokuto’s protests and attempts at sneaking away.

“Ataashi why are you angry? Is it because I let go of the dragon? You wanted to kill her? Because you ended up with your ass on the ground? Is it because I forgot the word for ‘dragon’ in the king’s tongue?”

Akaashi eventually decided that they were far enough away – the muscles in his arm were burning with the force he'd dragged Bokuto along with on top of the strain from the fight – so he let go of the Qunari, slamming a finger right into the middle of his chest.

“What were you doing?” Akaashi hissed, looking straight into Bokuto’s golden eyes. Someone who didn’t know Akaashi would have described him as slightly upset in that moment, but Bokuto, who knew him well, read in the human’s eyes a quiet fury about to be unleashed on him.

Bokuto raised an eyebrow. “Saving our asses? Aren’t you happy, Ataashi? I made up for the mess up of yesterday and—”

“I wasn’t talking about that,” Akaashi interrupted him, voice barely kept even.

“Ataashi, I don’t unders-”

“ _Quit it with the Ataashi_ _already!”_ Akaashi pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes for a moment, trying to control the  _inexplicable_  trembling of his fingers. “I have a name! Akaashi! Akaashi Keiji, can’t you say it?”

Bokuto bent his head toward him. “So it is because I forgot how to say ‘dragon’ in the king’s tongue!” Akaashi snorted in frustration. _He doesn’t get it_ . What was all the fuss about what language he used to say “dragon” anyway? That wasn’t the point – not  _at all_.

Akaashi took a deep breath, attempting to calm himself. “You faced that dragon in a reckless manner. Facing a dragon head-on is an attempted suicide,” Akaashi tried to explain, professionally, but was interrupted once again before he could explain his reasoning about why Bokuto’s tactic had been terrible.

“But it worked! We got out of there with our skin on, and so did the dragon! Everybody won today,” Bokuto said with quite simplistic enthusiasm, that would have been contagious –  _endearing_ even – in any other circumstance. Akaashi, in that moment, had only one thought in mind that came above all the others.

“You could have died.” The words came out of Akaashi’s mouth slowly, almost as if saying them would have made Bokuto drop dead at that very moment. Bokuto finally shut his mouth, head tilting to the side.

“Did you miss the fact that we could die at every moment of every day?” Bokuto asked, and his voice had traces of hurt and anger in it. “An arrow could kill us both at this very moment and we couldn't do anything about it.”

Akaashi's lips were pressed in a thin line. He couldn't argue with that logic, but the pained mass in his chest did nothing to untangle. If possible, it started hurting even more.

Letting go of Bokuto, Akaashi took a step back, inhaling deeply. While his survival instincts kicked in during battles, Akaashi didn't really consider the fact that he could die most of the time. Their field of work implied dying young and having people die on you, so Akaashi preferred not to dwell on it much – he'd always dealt with that problem as and when it had presented itself. And yet, at that very moment, the prospect of death was terrifying.

He saw in his mind Bokuto being head to head with the dragon, Bokuto hammering the dragon with his shoulders to save Akaashi, and Akaashi felt nauseous, a shiver down his spine.

Akaashi realized that those unpleasant feelings were intimately tied with Bokuto's near-death experience.

“Just,” Akaashi lowered his head, trying to sound as polite and detached as possible, but was betrayed by the nervous fidgeting of his hands, “be more careful next time, and thoughtful of the people who care about you.”

“I don't think I need to be careful,” Bokuto shrugged, scratching his cheekbone, “but I'll do it for you, Ataashi!”

Akaashi sighed, but decided to take his victories where he could. “Very well. Let us return to camp.”

The pair made their way back, Akaashi keeping his gaze on the ground and his arms clasped behind his back while Bokuto watched predatorily around himself, arms swinging at his side. Akaashi had dragged Bokuto a long way, he noticed, and felt a little ashamed at how his emotion had overcome him so easily.

He looked up at Bokuto, who was talking softly but excitedly to himself. “May I ask a question?”

“You just did!” Bokuto barked back. Akaashi's face remained unimpressed.

“I did not ask for smart remarks.”

“First of all,” Bokuto held out his index finger, “you are admitting that I'm smart! Second,” he held out his middle finger, “it was just a joke. And! Third!” Lastly, the ringer finger, “you don't have to be polite all the time, 's just the two of us, relax.” Bokuto replied loudly, dragging the “a” of “relax”.

Akaashi tilted his head to get a better view of Bokuto, a little sassy smile tugging at his lips. “Firstly, I never claimed otherwise, so it is not a real victory,” he held out his index finger, imitating Bokuto. “Secondly,” his middle finger, “I could tell it was a joke, but it does not mean it was a funny one.” Lastly, he held out his thumb instead of the ringer finger. “And thirdly, I cannot change my politeness, as you call it, just like you cannot changer your...” he searched for a moment for the right word “...your carelessness.”

“...I feel kind of insulted.”

“Do not be, it was not my intention.” Akaashi stopped in his tracks, hands again behind his back, tormenting his right ring finger with his left hand out of habit. “I take it that _Ataashi_ is a word with actual meaning, am I right?” Bokuto nodded enthusiastically. “What does it mean? And why do you keep calling me like that?”

Bokuto smiled a huge grin, laughing as if he had just conquered Thedas. “I've been waiting months for ya to ask me, y'know?” He bellowed, hands proudly on his hips, chest puffed. “The first time I heard your name I thought _dang, it sounds just like ataashi_ , and then I took a better look at you and thought _dang, he looks like an ataashi kind of guy_ , and then I saw you fighting and all and thought _dang, he's_ definitely _an ataashi kind of guy_ and-”

“Ser Bokuto,” Akaashi interrupted, patiently. “The point.”

Bokuto didn't seem fazed, his enthusiastic behavior unchanged. “Qunari call dragons _Ataashi_. It means _the glorious ones_.”

Akaashi looked Bokuto straight in the eyes. Bokuto looked back, waiting for a response. Akaashi's brain realized that one of Bokuto's first thoughts about him had been _he looks glorious_.

Thankful for the dim light, which was doing wonders to hid the red hue his face had taken, he held Bokuto's gaze, voice even. “I see. Thank you for the answer.”

He went back to walking.

“No problems!” Bokuto followed suit. “For a moment earlier I couldn't remember the word "dragon". You know sometimes Qunlat, my native tongue, and the king's tongue get a bit messed up together in my brain.”

“That is understandable. It happens to most people who know more than one language,” Akaashi said, filtering the right amount of awe he felt at Bokuto knowing more than one language. Akaashi himself spoke only one, and bits of Orlesian.

“I know, I know – I'm really impressive,” Bokuto grinned, and Akaashi scoffed fondly. “Do you mind? Me calling you Ataashi?”

 _Not anymore_ Akaashi thought, far too eagerly for his comfort. He noticed they arrived back at camp. “I just feel relieved that you did not butcher my name because you were not able to say it.”

Akaashi expected a pout or protests. He did not expect Bokuto leaning towards him, lips hovering over his ear, nor the low, husky tone of his words. “Oh, I can say your name, _Akaashi_.”

Bokuto then skipped away to camp as if nothing had happened, merrily hollering “ _Hey hey hey, the dragon whisperer is back! Where's the food?”_

Akaashi was trying his best to control the burn on his face. When asked why he was so red he could only answer that the dragon had probably heated him a little.

Akaashi did not miss Bokuto's pleased grin.

**Author's Note:**

> (Lowkey thirsty Akaashi, am I right)  
> Here we go!  
> Thank you a lot for reading, if you want to scream at me you can find me at @zibasworld on tumblr!  
> Love you all,  
> Ziba  
> PS: while the work is "complete", I don't exclude (one day) adding a new chapter (maybe from Bo's POV?) and see where this part of the AU goes ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


End file.
